FAT FOOD: MUWAAAHAAHAHAHA!

One of the things you get to look forward to as being a part of corporate America, especially in the line of work that I am in, is that (during the holiday season) the office becomes a drop-off place for a plethora of amazing (and not-so-amazing) things from suppliers (and wanna-be suppliers). They send/bring-in muffins, danishes, donuts, cakes, cookies, candy, and everything else that's super bad; everything but fresh fruit. The first day is fine, but after a while you start to get really sick of it. The worst part is that you don't stop eating the shit that keeps pouring in. The eating part essentially becomes a part of your job description. Right now my mouth hurts so much from the fake smiles that I give off as people bring in the goods. If they only knew that as soon as they leave me, I start cursing them under my breath, wishing and hoping beyond all that is glorious that they're the ones who magically get fat. Yes, even though it's really me who will go down that road.

(Give me a second as I stuff another candy bar down my throat... Oops. I gagged a little... 260 calories full.)

I know I could easily choose to NOT eat those things, and politely pass them off to other people in the office (who aren't as "fortunate" since their jobs actually suck), but that's the strange thing about all this. Despite feelings of grossness, the "bad" stuff remains.

I hate to be that guy who has to come into the office and shower the group with morsels of fatty goodness, just so that by the time Christmas comes, they can't even fit into their jeans anymore. Sad, right?

Oh but alas... I am going to be that guy. You see, I have a presentation to give to my colleagues tomorrow, and in order to glaze them over at 8:00AM I will be bringing in a dozen (or two) glazed donuts to start their morning off right. Hopefully, by the time my presentation is done, they'll be too sleepy to ask me questions, and then I can somehow slip back to finishing up my Friday. That, my friend, is the master plan. It's a classic case of fighting fire with fire. Only this time, I will not be the victim here. I will not eat one donut that I bring into the office tomorrow morning.

Mark my word, bitches.